


Drowning at Sea

by Ahhuya



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Gen, spoilers for Sindria 1.0?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 06:39:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14014404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahhuya/pseuds/Ahhuya
Summary: A broken Sinbad returns to Sasan to bring news he doesn't want to accept





	Drowning at Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Because I don't know if Othera will ever do this, I had the urge to write a quick drabble of Sinbad bringing the news of Mystras' death

The years aren’t kind to him. Despite being 18 years old, Sinbad’s feet feel heavy walking up the mountain path. Last time he set foot here, he was still optimistic about the future. With only 16 years of experience, he had been sure that the world would bow down before his feet. Now, he realizes that isn’t true. He has lost too much and as much as he wants to accept it all, he can’t.

Watching the city of Vabel lay in front of him hurts. The mountain in the back still carries the hole he blew in to it two years ago, when he was on top of the world. The fog drifting between the valleys shows how isolated the country is. Sinbad wishes he didn’t have to come here, that news would spread on its own, but he doubts Sasan changes that quickly. There was only one representative of the Land of Purity there, now buried underneath the rumble of a country no more than a haunting memory.

Ja’far told him to write a letter to the knight king instead. It would spare him the effort and the pain to look Darius in the eye when he brings the news. Sinbad has to admit it was a tempting offer. His company needs him as every soul is broken down and mourning. But they are all back in Balbadd again and the trip up north isn’t long enough to skip out on. With Rametoto things are different. Hinahoho decides to skip out on the trip back to Immchakk, realizing his children, sister and friends need him more than his father-in-law. It is a set of two letters that moves to the far, freezing north. One by Hinahoho to his father, explaining his situation and a request to apologize to the head chief for him. The other one is by Sinbad and is just like Hinahoho’s an apology and a promise to show his respect once things have calmed down.

Sasan doesn’t seem to have changed much since he was last around. People he hasn’t met before still stare at him like he’s a monster. Except this time, he doesn’t feel the need to prove them wrong. He _is_ a monster and he is the cause their new knight king is not coming home anymore. It is the knights that welcome him with open arms as an equal and it as an equal that he follows them up the small streets to the top of the city. He isn’t a king and he’s far from a god. He is a trader, a sailor lost on the waves of destiny and with every step, he feels his ship break apart, water waiting for him to finally give up.

He knows how to swim, but when he stands in the room where he once claimed a young knight from death, he drowns. Darius’ eyes are sad and Sinbad wishes the news has already come this far.

“Sinbad,” hearing his name being spoken is the last blow he needs. He bites his lip and averts his gaze as he’s bowing down on the floor in greeting, “seeing you here instead of my son doesn’t seem to be a good sign.”

Sinbad tries to find the words he has been reciting in his head the entire way. He closes his eyes, trying to find his apology back again. The silence already gives an answer on its own.

“He is not coming, is he?” Darius fills in.

Sinbad nods. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t able to be there in time.”

There is no room for surprise in the room. A single gasp is filtered out through the blood gushing in Sinbad’s ears as he waits for the fury he has unleashed on himself.

“The gods told us something bad would happen soon. To think it would hit my own son…” Darius lets out a sigh, but his tone hasn’t changed since the moment Sinbad stepped inside the castle. “Tell me what happened.”

**…**

Words flow easier when it’s just the two of them. Away from the eyes of the gods, the situation might be just as serious, but Sinbad knows what he’s doing again. He talks about the war, about how he himself brought an end to his happiness.

What is worse than being unable to find his own words, is that the knight king doesn’t seem affected by them in the slightest. It is as if any moment the words ‘ _he was going to die anyways_ ’ or ‘ _he was reckless to begin with_ ’ are going to fall soon, but they don’t. Neither of them agree that Mystras was living on borrowed time, that that one afternoon in the castle was supposed to end it all.

“When I arrived, it was already too late. He wasn’t human anymore and I don’t think he was conscious either. He fell down no more than a minute later. There was nothing I could do.”

“But he died doing what he thought was right.” Darius comments.

Sinbad nods softly. He had died protecting his country and his friends.

“I am glad he was able to see the world with you at least. He always sounded happy in his letters.”

Sinbad smiles, the image of his friend coming back to him. The laughter over a cup of wine, the sparring sessions in the late afternoon and the worries about his relationship. “He was.”

“He has kept the honor of the knights high. His death will be honored as any other knight’s. It is a heavy loss to the country, but we will move forward from this.”

Then why doesn’t it seem like the king is actually hurt by it? Sinbad, fighting back the sobs in the back of his throat, decides not to question it. In the end, he and Darius are on different levels. Sinbad may have been able to break mountains, he is no experienced king. The war he has fought is lost, and no doubt Darius, who has conquered land on his own, has felt this experience on his own.

“Though,” Darius says and for the first time his expressions softens to genuine sadness, “I wonder how _he_ is going to take this.”

“Who do you mean?” Sinbad asks and with the glance of Darius towards the door, the answer stands right in front of him.

A child stands in the opening of the door. In his hands lance of wood, just like the last time Sinbad saw the boy. The name of the child is somewhere in the back of his head, but the hair color screams with a sense of familiarity. Mystras’ younger brother, the boy that didn’t want to be left alone by his role model.

“Spartos,” Darius frowns, “what are you doing here?”

“The older knights said that I had to go find you.” The boy says. Spartos, Sinbad realizes, how could he forget a name Mystras would never shut up about. When the boy sees him, there is a sparkle in his eyes. “Did brother come with you?”

Sinbad can’t find the energy to answer and he is glad he doesn’t have to. There is a strong hand on his shoulder, pulling him back up from the waves.

“Give us one moment, Spartos. Sinbad has to leave again soon, I’ll fill you in on details then.”

Spartos nods at his father’s words and that hopeful smile walks out of the door again.

“If you fear my son’s death means that our alliance is broken, you are mistaken. Sasan will still support you, as you are part of our knight order. However,” Darius’ grip tightens, fingers digging deep into his shoulder, “I do not have three sons for them to die within your so called freedom. Sasan will send its new diplomate when the time is there, but only when the other knights in your company see things have changed.”

It’s a solid warning and with nothing in his possession, his people too broken by war, he knows not to anger the knight king. He would lose the battle this time, his body broken so much by the aftereffects of Parthevia. His djinn won’t stay on his body for more than a few seconds before everything falls apart again. So he nods instead and takes his leave.

The dark sky above the mountains is filled with stars when he steps outside again. He doesn’t stay to wait for the next morning, when the first official announcement of the death of the prince is made public. But despite his fears of the people’s anger, his name isn’t cursed in the streets. People walk up to the castle to pay their respects and comfort the crying second son. They don’t ask how the young knight died, as it must have been the will of the gods. By the time Sinbad’s back in Balbadd, his mind made up to leave everything behind again, Sasan witnesses the stars falling down. For the gods are still alive and they mourn their child as he resides besides them.


End file.
